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Derek sat in the waiting room of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital with his youngest pup curled up in his arms, asleep after an hour of waiting. Iris’ dark hair was messy from the awful day and her family running their fingers through it to soothe her as much as they could. She had tears and snot drying on her face and Derek couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was the sweetest little thing, and the sound of her bone breaking earlier was still resounding in Derek’s head.
“Maybe you should ask them why we’re still waiting?” Derek said, trying hard to keep the growl out of his voice.
Stiles sighed from his spot next to him. To be fair to him, it was the third time Derek had asked in the last twenty minutes “They said to expect to wait about an hour and a half. Besides, she’s sleeping now.” Stiles reached over and ran a soothing hand through the back of Derek’s hair, enjoying it being a tiny bit longer than his old short back and sides.
Derek took a calming breath and looked over to his husband, who didn’t look so well himself. It had been a long evening. As chance would have it, it was seven o’clock when Iris fell from off the ladder on her way down from the tree house. She was coming inside for dinner and had slipped on a wet rung of the ladder, landing awkwardly on her left arm.
Derek hadn’t run so fast in a long time, and he still remembered her wails as the pain hit her. He himself experienced that pain, even now she was sleeping he had embossed, darkened lines of pain running up his arm and out of her, drawing away as much discomfort as he could.
Iris was their fifth child, and their first human. So every bump and bruise and scratch was given that bit more attention from her very werewolf Papa. She was five now, and as the years passed Derek had got better about not freaking out when she got a little scratch, this had been their biggest challenge so far. Stiles was a little more rational about it, being a human himself, but even he looked pale this evening; sickened that his baby was hurt.
They’d rushed to the hospital, all their children in the car with them, fussing over their youngest sibling. The Sheriff had come to the hospital half an hour ago to take them to his house for the night while Derek and Stiles stayed with Iris.
“I just can’t get the… the noise out of my head. And her crying.” Derek whispered.
Stiles stroked the shell of Derek’s ear gently, his eyes peering into Derek’s, all sympathy “I know. Me too. But she’ll be okay. I broke my arm when I was ten and look at me now.” He sat forward and did an amusing arm wave dance move thing. He'd take it as a win that the corners of Derek's mouth lifted a bit, and the furrow of his brow looked just a little less severe.
“But she’s… she’s in pain. And she’s only little.” Derek breathed, looking down at her again. She had the cutest little face, with Stiles’ adorable nose, but a lot else was all Derek.
“I know it’s hard. But she’ll heal, okay? Just a little slower than you wolfy ones.” Stiles used his fingers to rub away Derek’s frown. Once it was gone, Stiles sat back in his chair and let out an uncomfortable grunt.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Derek nearly barked, his eyes searching Stiles worriedly. To put it lightly, Derek was feeling slightly on edge after today’s antics.
“Fine, all fine,” Stiles breathed, running a hand up and down his belly. He was six months along now.
Derek’s frown was back. He remembered watching his husband reach their youngest first, picking her up in his arms and off the muddy floor. “You picked her up. You didn’t strain yourself?” Stiles generally still picked Iris up, she was a cuddly child and pretty light, but he was having to be more careful now he was pregnant.
“I said I’m fine. If you must know, lil’ kiddo is currently playing drums on my bladder.” Stiles said tiredly, then hauled himself out of the uncomfortable hospital chair “I’ll be right back.”
Derek nodded and watched Stiles walk away. Ever impressive, and forever the best thing that happened to Derek Hale. He was an incredible partner, and the Alpha counted himself lucky to have such an Omega by his side.
“Stilinski-Hale?”
Derek sighed internally. One minute Stiles had been gone. He really didn’t feel equipped to handle this on his own. He was not a frequent visitor to Hospitals, he hated the smell and the jargon and the general stress that emanated from such a place. But he was a Papa. He bit his tongue and stood “That’s us.”
The nurse smiled “If you’d like to follow me?”
He nodded and was taken to a small room with a little hospital bed waiting and a Doctor.
Derek stopped taking Iris’ pain now, needing her to feel it so the Doctors could help properly, and the effect was instantaneous. As he lay her on the bed she frowned and whimpered then woke up with a little cry.
“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay. We’re at the hospital, remember? This nice Doctor here is going to take a look at your arm, okay?”
“Daddy?” She whimpered, big green eyes looking around worriedly.
“Daddy will be back soon, he’s just using the restroom.”
“Hello, little Miss. What’s your name?” The Doctor asked as Derek took a seat beside the bed, taking her little hand in his.
“Iris.” She sniffled.
“Nice to meet you, Iris. I’m Dr Green. I hear you hurt your arm?”
“I fell off the treehouse ladder.” She hiccupped.
“Ohh, that must’ve hurt. Can you show me where it hurts?”
The Doctor was carefully examining Iris’ arm when Stiles arrived in the doorway.
“Daddy!” Iris said, letting new tears out.
Despite being quite the Papa’s-girl, Iris definitely seemed to want Stiles when she was upset.
“Oh, baby, it’s okay.” Stiles rounded the other side of the bed and sat beside her hip, gently pulling her into his side. She cried pitifully and pushed her face into his side. He cupped her head in his big hand, making just how small and young she was all the more prevalent to Derek.
The rest of their stay at the hospital included an X-Ray and her fitting for a cast. Overall they were there for five hours. Walking through the door to their home just after midnight came as such a relief.
Iris was fast asleep in Derek's arms, her face in his shoulder, her red cast slung over his back. He toed his shoes off and carried her straight up to her room, hearing Stiles on the phone to his Dad as he did.
“Yeah, all good now… Fast asleep, went out like a light in the car ride home… yeah, praise be to Werewolf pain drain, hey?... Mhmm… Do you want to drop the kids off tomorrow? – Sure, yeah… Okay, well thanks for tonight, Dad. We really appreciate it… I know… Love you too, bye.”
Stiles joined Derek in the doorway to Iris’ room, Iris still in his arms.
“Okay?” he whispered, a hand coming up to Derek’s shoulder.
“Mmm.” Derek hummed, non-committal “Maybe she should-“
“Sleep with us tonight?” Stiles interrupted, a knowing, soft smile on his face when Derek turned to face him.
Derek breathed a sigh of relief and carried her to their room. Stiles followed, hands now laden with her favorite pyjamas.
They quietly worked around her, carefully swapping her shirt and pants for softer, warmer ones. She slept throughout and ended up in the middle of their bed, her blanky in her right hand, her face the picture of calm.
Derek changed into a soft t-shirt and a pair of Stiles’ boxer shorts. And Stiles put on an old, stretched out t-shirt of Derek’s and spider-man shorts.
“You must be tired.” Derek said, stood beside Stiles at the end of their bed, running a hand through the man’s hair then down to his belly for a rub.
“Mmm… exhausted.”
“Need anything before bed?”
“Some water?” Stiles said hopefully.
“Of course.” Derek pressed a kiss to his cheek then moved to the kitchen.
When he returned Stiles was sat cross legged in bed, his shirt rucked up just over his bump, rubbing a soothing lotion into the skin.
“Here.” Derek placed the water on Stiles’ bedside right beside his three books, lamp, and a picture of the whole family last Christmas. There was also a sonogram picture tacked to the corner of the frame too.
“Thanks, Der.” Stiles said.
Derek rounded to his own side of the bed and climbed in, lying on his side to face Iris and Stiles. He took the fingers of Iris that peaked out of her cast and quietly drew the aching pain away. Watching his youngest child breathe softly in her slumber, an overwhelming amount of emotions overtook him, he shuffled closer to her and pressed his forehead against her small shoulder, shutting his eyes.
“Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay. She’s okay.” Stiles was there now, rubbing a hand down his arm rhythmically.
“She got hurt.” Derek breathed, his voice wet.
“I know. It happens. But she’ll be okay. I promise.”
Derek peered up at his husband “I hate that she can’t heal faster. I hate that she’s going to be uncomfortable for weeks.”
Stiles leant over and pushed his forehead against Derek’s temple “I know. But would you change her?”
“No.” Derek said firmly “No, she’s perfect just as she is. As are you.” Derek reached up with his free hand and touched Stiles’ cheek irreverently " It's just hard seeing either of you in pain when the rest of us are lucky enough not to deal with that."
Stiles smiled at that “Us humans are more robust than you may realise. This human,” he pointed to himself “birthed five children, one time two at once. And kicks ass in a fight. And withstood possession at the tender age of seventeen. And this human.” He pointed at Iris “can rough and tumble with the rest of her siblings. And she’s the one marching uphill on our hikes with the rest of us eating her dust, little legs and all. She’s our little firecracker. And her body is going to be totally kick-ass and heal up her arm for her, it’s amazing. Yeah?”
Derek smiled, tears drying now “Yeah. You two are pretty cool.”
“Mhmm… you think you’ll keep us around, yeah?”
“I suppose so. Even though one of you snores.”
“I’m pregnant.” Stiles flicked Derek on the ear for that.
“Yep. A big, beautiful, snoring, pregnant omega.” Derek grinned.
“That you have the hots for.”
“Oh, big time.” Derek nodded, leant up and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ waiting mouth “I love you.” He said, pulling back.
“Love you too. Mister Papa-Wolf. I love how great a father you are to our children. And how deeply you care.”
Derek felt his ears go red at that “Thank you… for giving me the privilege of being a father. It’s… it’s everything to me.”
“I know, honey. I know it is. And ditto, totally.” Stiles sat up, pulling Derek to sit too. Careful of their daughter between them, they leant over and rested their foreheads together, pressing chaste kisses against one another's lips, breathing one another in and taking comfort.
“I’m exhausted," Stiles admitted "come on, let’s sleep.”
Waking up at eight o’clock the next morning, Derek turned his head to the side and saw Stiles lying on his back, Iris glued to his side, her face pushed into chest. His arm was around her, and her broken arm was resting on top of his belly. Her legs were splayed out, one foot wedged in Derek’s ribs, and the other pressing into his hip. As quietly as he could, Derek snapped a picture of the two of them and sent it to Noah.
He got a text right back.
Very sweet! Kids are already excited to come home and see her – what time is best? -NS
Any time you like. I think today we’ll be staying in our sweatpants and watching movies. -DS-H
Ok – We’ll probably be around within the hour. Want us to do breakfast? Melissa has a new pancake recipe. -NS
Sounds great! Iris would love to spend the day with everyone if you're both free too. -DS-H
Alexis saw that – she says Iris is the most werewolfy human ever. -NS
She is correct 😊 -DS-H
Derek sat Iris on the couch, put her favourite show on, then patted her head “You going to be okay for a little bit, pup?”
She nodded “Daddy needs you to rub his back.” She said wisely.
And that he did. Derek didn’t need werewolf hearing to know his husband was currently curled around the toilet in their en-suite.
“Just shout for me if you need me. Promise?”
She nodded and happily snuggled into the cushions, being careful of her arm.
Derek pounded the steps, skipping three at a time, and skidded into his and Stiles’ bathroom, coming to Stiles’ side as quickly as he could and kneeling beside him, rubbing his back gently and placing a hand on his belly as the man retched.
“It’s alright… that’s it…”
Stiles kept it up for a good five minutes before he rested his head against the rim of the bowl “Why do my unborn babies hate me? Either they have me vomiting on the daily or there’s two at once and I’m stretched to the max… ugh… why do I keep getting pregnant?”
Derek rested his head on Stiles’ shoulder blade “I know it’s not pleasant, honey. But you’ll get through, just like with the others. And it’s worth it. We have five perfect pups already.”
“They are pretty perfect.” Stiles grunted “Fuck, I love them so much.” He sniffed.
A soft smile pulled at Derek’s mouth and he pulled Stiles gently into his side “I know you do. You’re the best Dad.”
Stiles settled into Derek’s hold, just breathing through the nausea for a little while “I know another reason why we have so many little rugrats…” he breathed.
“Mmm?”
“You’re irresistible. I just want you all the time.”
Derek chuckled, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ sweaty forehead “Fourteen years later, and I’d say my desire for you just gets stronger. My other half.” He stroked a hand through Stiles’ hair.
“Your other half who stinks of vomit?” Stiles raised an eyebrow.
“You’re growing our baby. I can smell past the vomit.”
Stiles snorted.
The kids, followed by Melissa and Noah, tumbled into the home, making it noisy and busy once more.
“Iris!” The kids chorused, running over to her and surrounding her in their arms, all of them yelling excitedly about her new cast and how glad they were she was okay.
“Where’s Daddy and Papa?” Nick asked, flaring his nostrils then pulling a disgruntled face when he got his answer.
“Where are they?” Noah asked curiously.
“Upstairs. Daddy’s puking again.” Charlie said.
“Your poor Daddy.” Melissa sighed “Do you think he’ll want breakfast with us?”
“Nah,” Atlas said “He likes water and then maybe in half an hour if he feels better he’ll have breakfast.” He was the eldest, this wasn't his first rodeo.
“Morning, family.” Derek said as he came downstairs, a genuine smile on his face. His family were all here. All doting on Iris. Someone had already found a marker and Alexis was concentrating on drawing her very best triskele ("look, like a tattoo, like Papa's").
Life wasn't always easy, but they all had each other.